


The Most Important Element

by jigglyghostbutts



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-21 22:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8262328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jigglyghostbutts/pseuds/jigglyghostbutts
Summary: This is a nice story about a cute Elsen who works in Vesper.One day, he is selected to work at a new factory. He quickly starts to lose control over his life after that, and finds that secrets are very hard to keep.(I will update the tags as the story goes along.)





	1. The Lottery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Elsen named Julian is one of those selected for an exciting new job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what am I doing? this fandom is essentially dead.
> 
> oh well! this is my first time trying to write in past tense, so please don't hesitate to correct anything that's wrong.
> 
> meet Julian, one of my Elsen OCs.
> 
>  
> 
> ~~whoops I got the locations wrong. let me fix that~~

The PA system crackled to life with its usual bell-like tune, causing a hush to fall over the cafeteria. Much like many others, Julian set his spoon down on his dinner tray in anticipation. The deep, but overall gentle voice of their Director followed shortly after.

“Gentlemen, if I may please have your attention,” Enoch started, unnecessarily. Every Elsen in the cafeteria already had their eyes trained on the speakers. Julian noticed that even the Elsen from the kitchen had leaned out the door, his gaze intently locked to the ceiling.

“We have finished the construction of two new facilities,” the Director continued. “Two _very important_ facilities.”

This caused a wave of whispered speculation (“… melting more plastic?” “… heard we would be manufacturing meat, now…” “… have any spare workers?”), but a sudden quiet settled over everyone when the announcement continued.

“While I certainly trust all of you to be civil about volunteering,” Enoch said. “I have decided to take the stress of such a decision away from you.” There was some scattered cheering. Julian smiled, too.

Enoch was such a nice Director. He’d heard rumors (of decidedly dubious origin) that the Director of Zone 1 was cruel to his workers - not that Julian would know firsthand or would be able to confirm it himself. He had no idea about Zone 2’s Director, since no one had ever spoken of him - he didn’t even know his name. Now that he thought on it, Julian realized that one ever spoke of Zone 2 at all. Surely it had to exist, right? Why would someone skip from 1 to 3? There must be a 2. His rambling thoughts were interrupted.

“I have drawn a few worker identification numbers at random and shall list them now.”

It went absolutely silent, as if everyone was holding their breath.

“07863,” Enoch called out, his voice even more gentle and calming than it usually was.

Julian heard a gasp from somewhere behind him and he turned to see a man stand up from his seat, a look of excitement plastered on his face. He joined in with the polite applause for the lucky Elsen.

“08675.”

Julian joined in another round of applause.

“00309.”

It became a thing to clap for the ID owner.

“09476.”

Julian’s face froze in its small smile for a beat as the situation sunk in. His. That was _his_ number! He just about knocked the chair over in his haste to stand, knees quaking as they threatened to give out beneath him. He couldn't believe it! He was chosen for something _important?_ Julian let out a soft, shaky laugh as a giddy feeling overtook him. In his happiness, he zoned out, not hearing the rest of the worker numbers that were called and mindlessly clapping when he heard the others do the same. It was only when Enoch’s voice returned to a more administrative tone that Julian snapped back to reality.

“Congratulations to the gentlemen whose numbers were called,” Enoch said. “All thirty-five of you will be excused from the rest of the day's work.” Anxious murmurs sounded out around the cafeteria. “If applicable, please clean and pack any work uniforms that are in your possession so that they may be returned to inventory. You will be supplied with new uniforms befitting of your new stations.

“You may wish to turn in early, because you will need to meet outside the cafeteria by 6 A.M. sharp.” Enoch’s voice became more serious as he added, “Expect to see me tomorrow, as clear instruction for these new jobs is _absolutely crucial_.” It went back to its normal saccharine quality in an instant. “I will see you in the morning. Have a wonderful day.”

As soon as the static cut out, everyone started to chat among themselves in excitement. Julian remained quiet, but he very much shared their feelings on the matter. Director Enoch? He would get to _meet Director Enoch?_ Barely _anyone_ was allowed to see him, with the exception of the scientists, or so he’d been told.

On his trek back to the dormitory, he fought with his nerves as the squirmy feeling of butterflies fluttered around in his stomach. He was almost positive that he would not be able to sleep tonight.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Julian’s prediction was, thankfully, incorrect. He fell asleep particularly late, however, and he felt that now as he clambered down from the top bunk of his assigned bed. He checked the time and it was already 5:15 A.M. He practically ran to the showers to clean up, since he didn’t want to make a bad first impression when he met the Director later that morning. He skidded to a halt at the end of a long line and had to wait his turn, losing many precious minutes of his very limited time. He sighed.

After a quick shower, he dried himself off, neatened his hair, scrambled into a clean shirt and pants, and quickly adorned and adjusted his tie. He affixed his worker ID tag to his shirt pocket as he briskly walked down the hallway to the mess hall. Would he even be able to eat before the meeting? He hoped so. He was starving.

The clock on the wall read 5:45 as Julian entered the cafeteria, and he sighed. No breakfast, then. His bad mood was quickly replaced by curiosity upon seeing a group of Elsens gathered around the windows. He walked over and tried to peer around the others ahead of him. When he finally managed to see what the fuss was about, he decided that he couldn’t blame them for their excitement. Pastel was outside! He made rare appearances around Area 1 and was the most sociable member of the science team.

It took a solid minute of staring before Julian realized that other chosen Elsen were gathered around the scientist, and it jump-started his brain into remembering that he should also be out there.

“Ex-excuse me!” Julian called out as he tried his best to maneuver around the crowd. He shakily inhaled and raised his voice to be heard above the din around him. “I need to go out there!”

At that, many of the others hurriedly moved out of his way, clearing the path to the door. Julian shouldered the door open and almost overbalanced in his eagerness. He skipped to regain his composure and nervously looked around at Pastel. The Elsen didn’t comment on that display and instead just waved Julian over. Pastel took a deep breath and spoke loudly enough to be heard by all present.

“Good. This is everyone. Please, follow me.”

In a single-file line, they passed by reception, much to the Elsen who manned the desk’s surprise, and continued on to the monorail station. The scientist turned to face them and reached into his coat pocket to produce several passes. Pastel handed the whole pile of them to the first person he could reach, and that Elsen took one before he passed the stack to the man beside him, and so on.

“These passes will grant you to access to Area 3 of Vesper,” Pastel explained. “Do your best not to lose them.” Julian shyly raised a hand. “Yes?”

“Hhhh… What if-- what if we already have a pass for Area 3?” he stammered.

“Oh, right!” Pastel nodded. “Those of you who already have one of those, please step over beside me and wait.”

Julian walked over to stand with a handful of others and kept a death-grip on the piece of plastic in his pocket. He did not want to drop his pass - _especially_ not after he’d asked that question. Once everyone had one, Pastel walked toward the back of the group, giving several Elsens a pat on the shoulder as he passed them, but said nothing. When he returned to stand in front of everyone, he spoke again.

"Those of you I just tapped, please come over here with me," the scientist said.

There was a short scuffle as the indicated men tried to find their way out of the crowd as quickly as possible. All of them all gathered next to Pastel. There were ten, Julian noticed.

“Wonderful!" He smiled at them before turning back to the other twenty-five. "The rest of you will take the monorail to Area 3. But not all at once, please,” he instructed. “You should split into groups.”

At that, they boarded the monorail, leaving the rest of the Elsens to stand around awkwardly for a long, tense moment while they waited for the car to come back for them.

“Hhhh… How should we split up?” asked one Elsen - his number read 03259.

“Should we draw straws?” another man asked. Julian couldn’t read his tag from where he was.

“Um… We don’t have any straws,” said someone else from the back of the group.

Julian pondered something for a moment, before speaking up.

“How about we go in order by… uh… by numbers?” Julian asked, fidgeting with his hands while he spoke.

“Oh! That’s-- That’s a good idea,” said the first Elsen.

So they wouldn’t overcrowd the train car, they ended up splitting into one group of twelve and another of thirteen. Julian was part of the last group, since his number was so high. In the car, he sat down next to number 07863, whom up close he recognized as one of his dormmates and a co-worker from his previous job at the plastic refinery.

“Hhh… hello, Félix,” Julian greeted with a small smile. The other man nearly jumped at the sound of his name before he looked round at Julian. He brightened up immediately at the sight of a familiar face.

“H-hello, Jules!” Félix said.

“Ah!” they both exclaimed as the car jumped to life. Julian recovered faster than his friend, dropping his hand from where he’d gripped Félix’s arm in surprise. They didn’t speak after that. No one did. Everyone was nervous, but not in a bad way. He folded his hands on his knees and waited.

The monorail zoomed smoothly along the track, and when it exited the tunnel, Julian was met with a sight that he never got tired of: a marvelous view of factories dotting and overtaking the flat landscape. The large, orange smokestacks emitted a constant supply of smoke, though it wasn’t the type to breathe - he’d learned that from experience. As the monorail slowed to a stop, Director Enoch could be spotted standing on the platform with the other group of Elsens. The doors opened and everyone filed out of the car to stand next to the other chosen workers.

Up close, Director Enoch towered above Julian (and everyone else, really). He was at least three times as tall as the Elsens around him and many times wider. But despite his intimidating appearance, Enoch graced them all with a kind smile as he counted heads.

“Is this everyone?” Enoch boomed, his deep voice startling many of them. It was much, much louder in person. Julian could have sworn that he felt the bass reverberate from the ground and through his legs. “Splendid! Follow me, then.”

The Elsens all followed Enoch closely, huddled together in his shadow like bizarre ducklings following their mother. Enoch opened the entrance to a large - much larger than Julian’s own - factory. The Director stopped just inside and the men at the front of the group gave a valiant effort not to bump into him, causing everyone behind them to bump into each other as they stumbled to a halt. Julian saw that he ended up standing by what looked to be a hatch built into the wall. He gently rapped his knuckles against it and it gave a satisfyingly hollow sound in response. Enoch waited patiently for the crowd to sort themselves out before he cleared his throat.

“Firstly, any questions that you have will be answered after I am finished explaining everything,” Enoch started. He waved to the uniforms of various types hung up on the wall beside the door, the boots laid out on the floor below them. “These will be issued to you. Which type you receive will depend upon what position you end up with.” Julian noticed that there were far fewer than twenty-five of them.

His expression must have been mirrored on several other faces, for Enoch spoke up once more.

“I did indeed draw more numbers than are necessary,” he explained. “That's because I'm not expecting all of you to take well to what we'll be doing here. But know this: continuing onward, you are not to speak of anything you see here to anyone that is not involved with this factory. _Do I make myself clear?" _His eyes narrowed as he spoke, though his serene smile never faltered - not even once.__

There was a scattered chorus of “yes, sir.”

This was terribly exciting! Julian had never been a part of anything so secret before and he had to actively stop himself from bouncing up and down with eagerness. He felt _important_ for once!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> everybody likes to feel important sometimes. _especially_ when your super nice boss says you are.
> 
> there is a very small cameo from one of [my friend's](http://princeclueless.deviantart.com/) Elsens at the beginning.


	2. The Ovens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian goes on a guided tour of the new facilities and finds out what his new job entails.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how do I write Enoch this is tougher than I thought it would be
> 
> this isn't as long as the previous chapter, but I think it ended in the right place.

Enoch led them down into a room with a giant hole in the wall. The echoes of their footsteps sounded oddly metallic and Julian looked down to see that they were walking across a large, grated floor. The Director only paused briefly to explain that the hole was actually a pipe and it was part of a new invention they’d designed in Area 4. He did not elaborate on it, and continued onward down a flight of stairs.

As the group settled around at the bottom of the staircase, Julian observed this room as well. It was mostly empty, except for what appeared to be a lit fireplace that took up a majority of the wall near where they stood; a fairly large shovel was leaned against it. This didn’t strike him as anything spectacular, though he wondered what it was for - if it had another purpose, like the sewer pipe on the floor above. He looked back to the Director, hopeful that he’d explain something.

"While I don't necessarily need to show some of you this," Enoch said with a slight frown, "I fear that you would inevitably come across it at some point in the future." Julian had no idea what he was talking about. Were they supposed to keep their positions secret even from each other? "It's best that you see it now rather than cause a disturbance later."

Enoch walked over to the back wall and pulled a lever placed in the center of it. It opened a chute built into the ceiling high above them.

Julian and many of the other Elsens screamed in terror as several dead bodies fell the massive distance from the chute to the floor, where they crunched and splatted as they impacted the concrete. The Director pushed the lever back up to close the opening, and dusted imaginary dirt from his hands before he folded them together in front of his stomach.

“These,” Enoch said with the slightest bit of emphasis and a content smile, as if nothing were wrong at all - as if there weren’t several dead people twisted together on the ground and he was talking about something more innocuous, like the weather. “These are what needs to be processed here.” Several of the other Elsens were shaking or crying, and Julian just stared at Enoch in open-mouthed disbelief.

Julian was immediately distracted by a scorching smell. With great force, he was able to rip his gaze away from the Director and turned his head to the side. Smoke was curling from Félix’s mouth and ears. _He was going to burn!_ Julian had never seen anyone burn before, but he’d seen the starting symptoms. Usually it could be (and was) stopped if people acted quickly enough. Julian jumped in front of the other Elsen where he placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders to try and calm him down with soft words and a gentle touch of reassurance, just like he was taught.

“H-hey, it’ll be alright,” Julian said, as calmly as he could. “You can overcome this - it isn’t, um, it isn’t so bad…” He faltered because that obviously wasn't true. It most certainly was not alright - especially not with this gruesome discovery of what things were going on behind the scenes in Vesper. Other Elsens joined Julian in his endeavor, but Félix thrashed around until everyone let him go. He stumbled forward, took in a shuddering breath, and pointed an accusing finger at the Director.

“You… You said it was safe here!” Félix shouted, voice hoarse and cracking. A sticky black liquid began to ooze from his eyes, mixing with the tears that were already there. It trickled from his mouth, ears, and nose in stark contrast to his pale skin where it dripped onto his pristine shirt. The smoke in the air was becoming more pronounced. “Hhhh… You said that we were all safe!”

“I did,” Enoch replied, nonchalant in both his voice and countenance. A few other Elsens were also starting to burn at that point, but it didn’t seem to cause the Director any reason for concern. His normally placid smile had widened into a grin.

“I lied,” he added with a laugh.

That seemed to be the final straw for Félix. He grabbed his hair in his fists, more of the tar-like liquid splattering on the ground as he leaned forward and cried out something unintelligible, his mouth unable to form words through the sticky substance clogging his airway. Quite suddenly, Félix’s head exploded, sending globs and flecks of the scorched substance onto everyone around him. Julian cried out in alarm and dismay, stumbling backwards and nearly tripping over the stairs in his haste to flee. He ran in the direction of Enoch and pressed his back against the wall, where he sidled away as quickly as he could from the Burnt that used to be his friend.

It swung its clawed arms out and managed to tear into someone beside it. The poor sap’s gut sliced clean open and he collapsed onto the floor in a heap of blood and organs. He gave out a strangled cry, but no one could help him now. The Burnt turned on a dime and tackled one of the other men to the floor, where it started to beat his face against the concrete beneath them, gurgling out wails the entire time; it sounded as if it were crying. As soon as the second Elsen’s head split, it was like a chain reaction - one-by-one, all of the others that had started panicking burst into more Burnt. They chased and attacked any of the Elsens that hadn’t managed to get far enough away in time. Julian had backed his way into the farthest corner, far away from the deadly creatures in the center of the room. His breath came in gasps as he tried to calm down; he didn't want to burn like the others had.

After a long - too long - moment of this massacre, there was a suffering sigh from beside him. Julian looked over to see Enoch slowly approach the scene, a frown marring his face all the while. Was he going to save them? He desperately hoped so. He didn’t want to die. Not here. Not like this.

The Director stopped when he reached the Félix Burnt. Then, something happened that Julian couldn’t exactly comprehend: in one moment, Enoch stood over the creature. Then, in less than the blink of an eye, the Burnt was a smear across the opposite wall. He hadn’t even seen Enoch _move_. He _did_ see him move the second time, though, as the large man grabbed all the rest of the Burnt in both of his large hands and tossed them right into the lit furnace. Their screams were deafening as they echoed up the pipes and around the bare walls. Enoch waited for it to quiet down before he turned back to face the dozen or so Elsens that were still alive.

The man next to Julian was sobbing quietly to himself.

“That is how I expect you to dispose of them,” Enoch huffed, wiping the residue on his hands onto the wall beside him. “The dead people, not the Burnt,” he clarified through a chuckle. The Director stared at all of them expectantly, and, when no others burst into carbon, he smiled again.

“I'll separate you all into a few groups based on your prior work experiences,” Enoch said as he strutted back over and placed a large hand on the shoulders of one Elsen. He pushed him, guiding the man to stand off to the left. He repeated this with two others before he spoke again, “You'll take shifts guarding the doors to the factory.” His smile widened, and with an amused lilt to his voice, he added, “We don’t need anyone wandering in, after all, do we?”

No one said anything and more Elsens were directed to stand in a group.

“You'll be stationed upstairs.” Enoch gestured above them to the pipes that spidered up the wall from the furnace, where they disappeared into the ceiling. “You will have the job of shoveling the ash from the floor into the pipe to the sewer system, where the ash will become sugar on its way to Area 2.”

Julian had no idea what sugar was, and he was pretty sure that he never wanted to find out, all things considered. He briefly wondered what it was that the Elsens in Area 2 had to do and if it was anywhere near as terrifying as all this had turned out to be. Julian jumped when the Director’s palm landed on the back of the crying Elsen beside him. The man shakily followed the guiding hand of Enoch to stand beside three others.

"You'll be responsible for gathering up the dead and carting them into the hatch on the ground floor." Grinning widely, Enoch bent down so he could lock eyes with the closest Elsen. His voice went soft, but there was an underlying tenseness to it that Julian had never heard from Enoch before. "You will move them as discreetly as possible… Because _nothing_ is wrong in Zone 3. _Do you understand?"_ He was threatening them. The Elsen gulped and nodded his head rapidly in response.

"Wonderful!" Enoch chuckled, cheeriness back and as bright as ever. He stood up once more to his full height and faced Julian and the other Elsens that had yet to be assigned to anything.

“I don’t think you'll have too much of an issue with the heat, since you were all working with the melting pots at the plastic refineries,” the Director said. “So, that leaves the three of you in charge of burning the bodies.”

Julian felt his stomach clench, but he said nothing.

He remained staring at the stain on the wall.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well! that sure escalated quickly.


	3. The Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian's first day at the sugar ovens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally broke through some writer's block.
> 
> I'm constantly toying with how much dialogue I should include, since none of it is particularly interesting or plot-relevant at this point. though, I've read (and experienced this while writing other shit) that leaving a character alone is the worst thing you can do to them. there ends up being so much introspection and you have to make sure you don't just make them regurgitate stuff you've already had them think about before. the mind _does_ go in circles, but it's annoying to read about it when it does.

Julian couldn’t for the life of him remember the tram ride back from Area 3. Everything had been a blur after being assigned his new position, and he only awoke from his stupor to find himself on the monorail platform, holding what was most certainly part of his new uniform.

So, it hadn’t been a nightmare, had it? Julian clutched the clothes to his chest as he walked back through Area 1 to the dorms. If anyone said anything to him as he passed them by, he didn’t notice - he was much too lost in his own thoughts. The thought of what waited for him tomorrow filled him with dread. Would he be able to do this? Just thinking about it made his stomach turn and his head pound. He decided that he would skip dinner and passed right through the cafeteria without stopping.

When he arrived at his bunk, the bottom bed was still empty. It was early, he supposed. He climbed up to his bed and set his new coveralls on one of the built-in shelves on the wall beside it. He let out a long sigh, eyes closed and legs hanging from the bunk. Julian wanted nothing more than to go back to how it was yesterday, but he wasn’t dumb enough to hold onto that thought for very long - here in Zone 3, the Director’s word was god. He fell over onto his side and tucked his feet up on the bed, his hands gripping at his shoulders as he stared, unfocused, at the bunk across the room. For a while he just simply laid there and existed.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he thrashed awake, a cold sweat on his forehead and his breath coming in wheezing gasps. It was dark in the dormitory. He slowly sat up and put a hand to his forehead. A nightmare? He couldn't remember the details of it, but that didn’t really matter. Now he was wide awake. The sudden loud sound of his own stomach grumbling startled him. He wondered what time it was and considered just staying awake until it was time to go back to Area 3.

At that thought, it felt as if lead settled itself in his stomach and he no longer felt hungry.

Right… He didn’t work for the refinery anymore, did he? Anxiety began to tighten in his throat and a slight pressure built behind his eyes. This was bad. This was beyond bad. He was expected to not only handle the dead, but burn them all up? Considering how rightfully frightened everyone is about becoming a Burnt, that seemed like an insult to an already terrible injury. He’s not sure he can handle that type work for very long, if at all. Worse still, he couldn’t even try to talk about it with anybody outside of the Elsens he’d met with yesterday, or else he’d more than likely be just like the Elsens in that pile next to the oven. But, what could he do?

Nothing, Julian realized.

He could only do as he was told.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

The hours that Julian sat and waited were slow moving and only caused the pressure behind his eyes to build up even more. He pinched the bridge of his nose while he walked down the hall. He had to try and eat something for breakfast, or else he’d regret it later.

Julian was surprised to see the Elsen who mans the kitchen already awake and preparing food, though he supposed that it would only make sense for him to prepare food before people arrived, not after. He didn’t think he was being particularly loud, so he was further surprised when said Elsen walked out of the kitchen to greet him.

“H-hello!” said the chef. What was his name again? Patrick? Pippin? Something with a “P”, he was at least sure of that. It would be too awkward to ask him his name when the cook seemed so familiar with him already, so he didn’t ask and grabbed a tray instead.

“Good morning,” said Julian. He noticeably lacked the same cheerfulness that the other man always spoke with. He could probably use the time of day as an excuse, if it came up.

“I noticed you weren’t here for dinner,” the Elsen said with an edge of concern to his voice. Did this guy remember everyone’s face or something?

“Hhh… I wasn’t hungry.” It wasn’t a lie, so Julian didn’t feel bad about evading the question.

“Oh, I guess so, huh? I’m sure yesterday was a busy day for you,” he replied, setting a serving of meat on Julian’s tray.

Julian thanked him and headed to his usual table, though it quickly became uncomfortable to sit and pretend to eat when the chef could see him from right over there. He stopped worrying when others finally started to drift in from the dorms. He managed to choke down some of the food, but it left him feeling queasy. He tipped the rest onto neighbors’ plates, then put his tray up.

Julian sucked in a deep breath before heading to the tram station.

Everything would be okay. It had to be. He’d find a way to work through this.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

The monorail ride was uneventful. Julian recognized some of the other passengers as Elsens he’d seen yesterday, but none of them spoke unless spoken to. That was fine with him, since he wasn’t in the mood to be social, either. He wanted this ride to be over, but wanted it to last forever at the same time. He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want any of this.

Julian made his way into the factory and grabbed a hard hat from the rack by the door. A note stuck to the wall underneath it said: “RETURN UNIFORMS HERE AFTER YOUR SHIFT.” He looked down and noticed another clean jumpsuit folded neatly on a bench; there were a few more laid out under the other hooks, too. He supposed that made sense, especially if things were to remain secret around here. He placed the helmet on his head and turned to face the stairs that led down to the ovens.

For a long moment, he felt paralyzed, staring vacantly at the staircase, short nails biting into his palms, sweat beading on his brow. Julian wasn’t sure if he could do this, but he also greatly feared the ramifications if he didn’t do his job. The door slamming shut behind him startled him back out of his head.

One of the Elsens that was supposed to shovel ash into the sewer had entered the building. He stared at Julian in quiet bewilderment. Already feeling jittery, Julian almost ran toward the stairs in his haste to get out of there. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Julian froze in place once again. The bodies were still there. The sight of them had been burned into his mind’s eye, so he was positive it was the same pile of bodies from the previous day. The Elsen did his best to look away from the grisly sight while he walked to the oven and slowly, shakily picked up the shovel by its handle.

He had to do this. There was no use in dragging his heels, no use in stretching out the time before he acted. His grip tightened on the handle and he turned to face the pile of corpses a few feet away from him. In grim resignation, he stalked over toward the dead Elsens. He stopped dead in his tracks and recoiled so violently that he almost fell over.

The smell was _awful._

He regretted eating even the small amount that he did, because his stomach was starting to rebel something fierce. Taking a few calming breaths and centering himself once again, Julian held the shovel up and aimed at the closest body. He tried to pick one up. Julian slammed the shovel forward and down in an attempt to get it under of the Elsens, but thanks to his nerves he overcompensated and missed. He nearly severed one’s head from its body, blood splattering onto his clothes. His eyes widened and he gagged, turning away and dropping the shovel so he could bend in half and hold his stomach. There was one close call, but he managed to keep his food down in the end - though it took him several minutes to gather up the courage to try again.

When he finally got one onto the shovel, Julian quickly discovered something about corpses: yes, they are delicate, but they’re also _really, really heavy._ His legs shook under both the dead weight and his new lopsided center of gravity while he ambled slowly back to the oven. He almost gratefully tipped the body into the fire so he could lean onto his shovel with relief, breath already wheezy with labored gasps. The smell from the fire was possibly worse than the smell of the body pile, but he was too tired to lean away from the oven; he was just glad he hadn’t dropped it on the way over.

Julian’s relief was short-lived, however, when he realized that he hadn’t tossed the corpse far enough into the furnace - he was standing close enough that it was in danger of catching him on fire. He let out a strangled yelp before righting himself and shoved the thing into the oven as quickly and completely as he could.

It was going to be a long, long day.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------

 

Julian could barely stand up straight anymore.

From his arms to his stomach, and from his back down to his legs, his muscles ached more than they ever had in his entire life. The pain of standing back up again made sitting down something he wanted to avoid… but standing hurt, too, so he was at a bit of a loss in that department. It even hurt when he clung to the upright pole in the train.

The monorail let everyone off at Area 1 and Julian couldn’t have been happier to see the familiar surroundings of the platform. The stairs proved to be a real challenge, though, and he ended up accepting the help of another Elsen to make it to the top. He quietly thanked the man and they went on their separate ways.

Julian thanked the Queen that he wasn’t covered in gore - he hadn’t gotten blood on his face or neck, just on his jumpsuit, gloves, and boots, which he’d left behind as instructed. He was covered in a thin layer of ash, though, and it had a strange scent to it that he didn’t want to contemplate for very long. He didn’t want to contemplate _anything_ for very long, though, because he was so damn tired.

The showers were his next destination. After he undressed, he stared at himself in the mirror, noting where the ash was - the answer was that it was all over his face and no matter where he tried to wash, it would most likely remove some of it. With that in mind, he stepped in.

He ended up scrubbing away until his skin was pink and nearly raw, yet he still didn’t feel very clean.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it turns out that it's really helpful to listen [to this track](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rh0N-hlIJYU) while writing this story. who would've thought?


End file.
